


Friend of a friend

by Sylvalum



Category: Iron Man (Comics), The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Awkward Steve Rogers, Fluff, M/M, Pettiness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-24
Updated: 2019-06-24
Packaged: 2020-05-19 03:33:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,485
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19348651
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sylvalum/pseuds/Sylvalum
Summary: In which Rhodey introduces Steve Rogers to his friend Tony, and Steve doesn’t understandwhyhe’s not on the Avengers, because Tony is brilliant.





	Friend of a friend

**Author's Note:**

> god this thing just got longer and longer and developed more feelings than intended, but it’s done!!  
> title from the song by lake malawi because eurovision was on when i started writing this  
> and riri is here because i love her

The rest of the team are off cleaning themselves up while Steve, and Rhodey - who keeps making sensible choices Steve can respect and admire - are helping with post-battle clean-up. Steve always feels a bit guilty about the collateral damage to New York unless he goes out there and helps shift the rubble, and it’s something to do, so he’s been doing it a lot. A lot, up to the point that Damage Control have started expecting him to always show up and help. He doesn’t really mind it, to be honest. It’s nice to feel like he’s needed for something else than violence.

Steve is sweeping up crushed bricks with two normal guys, while Rhodey is in his War Machine suit, helping move construction beams away from a side street. They’ve set up a bunch of signs that direct traffic away from the worst of it, so when a bright red car pulls up right next to Rhodey and honks, Steve’s first reaction is irritation.

Then Rhodey sets down the construction beam, pulls up his faceplate and starts talking to the guy sticking his head out the driver’s window. 

Steve can’t hear what they’re saying; his hearing is good but not that good, and there’s the background noise of the city drowning it out. 

He kind of  _ wants _ to hear what they’re saying, though.

Not even in an eavesdropping way, that’d be rude, but... Then Steve realises there’s nothing that’s  _ actually _ stopping him from just walking over there and asking what’s up, so he sweeps up the last of the brick dust from his corner of the street and leans the broom against a Damage Control truck, starting to make his way over to Rhodey and the car.

Rhodey nods at Steve as he comes, while the guy in the car pushes up his sunglasses, looks at Steve and says, “Tell me you don’t work for damage control, you’re just way too hot to work for them.”

“This,” Rhodey says, utterly ignoring the guy’s comment which Steve desperately tries to process, “Is Captain America, Steve Rogers. Tones, please be nice.”

(“Wait -  _ this _ is Captain America? Why’s he on clean-up duty-”)

“And this,” Rhodey says, gesturing at the guy with what looks like a sudden bout of great exhaustion, “is my friend Tony.”

Steve sticks out his hand mostly by reflex and says, “It’s nice to meet you.” He’s not being insincere - a friend of Rhodey is a friend of Steve’s. He hopes. He really hopes.

“It’s a pleasure,” Tony says after a beat, shaking his hand for about two seconds before withdrawing into his car, “To finally meet you, Captain. Jim’s been talking so much about you, you can’t even imagine-”

“Right,” Rhodey says loudly. “What are you doing here, Tony?”

“I’m inviting you to lunch!” Tony grins at Rhodey. “And I suppose you can bring the Captain too, honey.”

“Lunch where?” Rhodey asks. “Are you trying to bribe me into something?”

“No. Or, yeah, well, kind of, but you would’ve agreed anyway. And I was thinking that Italian place I was going to show you last week?” Tony finishes and turns to Steve. “You coming, Cap?”

“Alright,” Steve finds himself agreeing. They’re almost done here anyway.

Steve’s only friends in the future are Rhodey, Clint, Natasha, Bruce and Thor, one of which is away on another planet or something, and he’s only friends with them in the first place because together they’re the Avengers. And it was Fury who picked them all out, pushed them together, and they’re okay people, good people, but it’s  _ work _ . They’re coworkers.

This would definitely count as going out more, Steve argues to the little Bucky voice in his head, and then Rhodey makes the armour disassemble so that they can both pack themselves into Tony’s car.

****

* * *

****

The fact that Rhodey’s feeling rather wary about this has nothing to do with the restaurant or the food; he’s never had any objections to Italian - no, it’s everything to do with how Tony and Steve are going to get along. Steve’s a good guy, and even if Rhodey didn’t consider him a friend he’d be a co-worker, but Tony is essentially the dumb little brother Rhodey never had - except that Tony never left the toddler stage where you have to stop them from eating detergent or putting the kitchen on fire, and since he’s a genius that just makes it worse. Basically, if Steve and Tony decide they hate each other, then Rhodey has to live with that too, and he’d really prefer not to. He’s already far too invested in Tony’s life as is.

In the car, Rhodey gets to ride shotgun which means Steve is alone in the backseat, so Rhodey has fifteen minutes to brace himself for the explosion. Steve can behave, he’s polite, Rhodey knows that, but Tony’s father raised him on far too many goddamn Captain America stories. That’s not Steve’s fault, but Rhodey knows that Tony still feels bitter about his childhood and all of Howard’s garbage-

Rhodey really  _ is _ too far up in Tony’s business.

When they reach the restaurant, Tony orders for them all, and then they sit down at a table to wait. Tony takes one side of the table, while Steve gingerly sits down next to Rhodey. 

“So, Tony,” Rhodey begins just as gingerly. “That thing you  _ aren’t  _ bribing me into?”

“I need back-up,” Tony says bluntly. “So, I’ve been looking into some of Hammer’s old files, and there’s a bunch of really fishy labs that haven’t been emptied yet that we should check out…”

They talk details until they both realise they’re leaving Steve out - or well, at least that’s why Rhodey wraps up the conversation. Tony removed his sunglasses when they first sat down, and now he’s cocking his head and looking at Steve like he’s one of Tony’s projects. Or, and  _ this _ is infinitely more worrying, like Tony thinks Steve is the dessert he didn’t order.

Rhodey starts thinking of something to say, but he doesn’t need to, because Tony asks, “So what do you think of the Avengers, Captain? Enjoying being on the superhero club?”

Steve handles the question pretty well. “I like being on the Avengers,” Steve answers, just like he always does no matter who’s asking, “But we’ve got a long way to go, there’s a lot that could be improved… but it’s still. My team. Haven’t got anyone else here but them.” He ducks his head and pokes at the napkins. 

“Must be tough,” Tony says. “At least you’ve got Google now.”

Rhodey drags a hand over his face. Steve makes a sort of huffing sound that could mean anything, and says, “Yeah. Yes. The google. Of course.”

“Yup.” Tony says, steadfastly ignoring the sarcasm. “But the Avengers. Are you guys even like, friends, or is it just Rhodey? Hey Cap, you  _ do _ like Rhodey, right?”

“Tony-” Rhodey begins, exasperated that-

“Of course I like Rhodey,” Steve quickly cuts in. “You’re a good man, Rhodey. And - a good teammate.”

“That’s mostly the suit,” Rhodey deflects, because he’s sworn up and down he doesn’t have a celebrity crush on Cap, because he  _ doesn’t _ , and because it would be seriously bad to have one on Steve, and no, no he will not give Tony the satisfaction of seeing him flustered.

“The suit!” Tony exclaims, delighted, which means Rhodey’s deflection worked. “Do you like the armour Cap? ‘Cause I’ve been looking to design some shit for the Avengers for weeks now, that garbage SHIELD has made you stick with is seriously horrid, god. It doesn’t even look good! I could make so much better, and it doesn’t even need to be an  _ armoured _ suit, I can make you something with stars and stripes, no problem, just say yes, say yes.”

“I… you made Rhodey’s suit?” 

“He did,” Rhodey says.

“Yeah.” Tony grins at Steve. “So, you like it?”

“Yes, but I don’t-”

“Don’t want a suit of armour? But at least a regular one, right? Of course you want one, I’ll make you one that actually makes your ass look good-”

Spending months in the future must’ve helped steel Steve before his first meeting with Tony, because Steve handles the conversation with minimal flailing and disgrace. Pepper would be proud of him, and Rhodey figures; no explosion.

Thank fucking god.

****

* * *

****

It’s almost a month later when Steve finally finds out about Iron Man.

After their first meeting, Tony starts showing up around the Avengers pretty frequently (and if that doesn’t happen he still chats with Rhodey on the phone), but Steve doesn’t manage to catch his surname until week two, Steve  _ still _ doesn’t know his actual occupation, and it’s honestly just an assumption that he lives in the giant tower in Manhattan with ‘STARK’ spelled out at the top. Meanwhile, Tony told Steve himself that he’d read all the files on Steve that SHIELD had, apparently after hacking into them, whatever that means, and that Tony had grown up idolising Captain America, watching all the film reels and reading all the comics, and that Tony basically already knew everything about him.

That’s one of those things that just suck all the joy out of being in the future.

The Avengers are just finishing their briefing, on a Monday about one month after Steve had had lunch with Rhodey and his friend, when Tony then strolls in. He’s wearing sunglasses indoors again, and as he drops into an empty chair next to Clint he comments idly, “So  _ this _ is where you meet? You know, as much as I’m digging the grey wallpaper and lack of windows, I have to say this: you gotta ditch SHIELD. Interior designers would weep at this room.”

“Hi, Tony,” Steve says.

“Wait, you’re Tony Stark,” Clint says. “What the fuck.”

“Stark,” Natasha greets, already on her way out the door.

“Natalie,” Tony replies cheerfully.

“Why are you here?” Steve asks, opting to ask about ‘Natalie’ later. If he even remembers to, between all the other catching up he needs to do.

“Your suit,” Tony says, picking up a pen and pointing with it at Steve. “I’m making you a new one, remember, and I need your measurements, Cap.”

“Yeah, you have fun with that,” Clint says before Steve can reply, going for the door. Bruce and Rhodey skipped the briefing to have a shower and Thor is away, so he’s the last one to go. 

Having Rhodey here as support would’ve been nice.

Steve says, “You really don’t need to make me a new suit, Tony.”

“Buddy, I’m going to make you a new suit no matter what you say, so you might as well come with me to the tower to make sure it’ll fit.”

Steve thinks about his list of things to do, then looks at the empty briefing room. He drags a hand through his hair. Sighs and says, “Alright.”

This time Tony’s car is a tasteful orange, and Steve gets to sit in the front seat. Tony grins at him when he sits down, and as soon as the doors close he floors it, which makes Steve very very happy that he for once remembered that seatbelts are a thing now, as the car tears off down SHIELD’s driveway. “Tony!” Steve snarls, refraining from cursing only because he’s already gotten enough shit from Clint today about letting a ‘fuck’ slip while in battle, and at Steve’s exclamation Tony’s grin only gets more roguish. 

“Don’t worry,” he says, car already slowing down, “we’ll be stuck in traffic for the rest of the way.”

Steve grumbles, but Tony turns out to be right, because if there’s one thing Steve has learned to expect of the future, it’s traffic jams.

Tony eventually starts telling a story about him and Rhodey and a bar, which gets Steve to wonder, because he still knows almost nothing, “How did you two even become friends?”

Rhodey and Tony do not seem very alike.

“Roommates at MIT. I was about fifteen and he - started looking out for me.” Tony’s eyes stay on the street, even as Steve watches him.

“Yeah,” Steve says, roughly, and misses Bucky. 

It just hurts to think about, like most thoughts about home. He’s made a habit of trying to ignore them, so he carries on with asking,  “And then you… you built a flying suit of armour for him?”

“Hah. That happened in 2010, but basically yes.” Tony shrugs with one shoulder. “It was natural to make a suit for him too, and then SHIELD wanted him on the Avengers…”

(‘ _ too _ ’?)

When they finally reach Stark Tower (which is, indeed, where Tony lives) Tony immediately shoos Steve into an elevator which will take them to ‘his lab’. This is announced by a pleasant British voice, which then starts  _ talking to _ Tony, but Steve doesn’t have more than a few seconds of time to freak out about this before Tony introduces, “Steve, meet JARVIS, he’s the house AI, if you ever need anything just ask him because he knows everything.”

“I do try, Sir,” the voice replies dryly, and Tony looks at Steve and raises an eyebrow.

“Nice to meet you, Jarvis,” Steve parrots, frantically reminding himself to search on the Google to find out more about ‘AI’ as soon as he gets out of here.

“Nice to meet you too, Captain Rogers,” JARVIS says, incredibly polite, and Steve relaxes a little.

The elevator stops smoothly and Tony steps out, spins around and throws out his hands. “Welcome to my church,” he says, grandly. “Where we worship the future, but I do see myself as an acceptable substitute if you prefer that brand.” 

Images hang in the air around him, flickering in and out, and they’re all made of blue light, glistening in Tony’s hair and eyes where he stands among the tables heaped with parts and tools and metal. Tony looks like… like something Steve wants to draw, definitely. Steve feels like he should say something clever but all he comes up with is, “Wow.” He looks around the lab, and it’s all glass and metal and light, lightning trapped in steel, sheesh, but then he spots the half-done gauntlets laying strewn on a workbench, and another table occupied with empty take-out boxes and coffee mugs. It softens the whole futuristic punch right to the gut, a little.

There’s also an armour standing at the back of the lab, but it’s sleeker and in the wrong colours. “Is that another version of War Machine’s suit?” Steve can’t help but ask, because it’s  _ beautiful _ , nodding to the armour.

Tony looks over and says, “No, that one’s mine.”

“Yours?” Steve asks. Is Tony thinking of becoming a…

“Yeah, I’m Iron Man, it’s a whole thing, you know,” Tony drawls, almost like he expects Steve to know what he means.

“Since… when?” Steve asks.

“Since 2008.” Tony looks at him. “Wait - no one’s told you? Rhodey didn’t say anything? Seriously?”

“You’ve been a superhero this whole time?” Steve demands. 

_ Why _ had no one told Steve? How did he miss this?

“Why aren’t you on the Avengers?”

“Well, Natalie said I’m the very definition of a narcissist and shouldn’t be on a team,” Tony says cheerfully, “and  _ then _ Fury told me I couldn’t join the Avengers, so now I’m definitely not going to join until he begs for it.”

“Tony,” Steve just says, because  _ wow _ is he starting to realise what Rhodey meant when he had said that Tony could be a real headache sometimes.

“Yeah,” Tony says. “Get over here, old man, I want your measurements already.”

****

* * *

****

The next time Tony bursts into the SHIELD briefing room unannounced he finds the Avengers, having a meeting, but no Steve. Apparently it then was Clint who told Tony that Steve had landed himself in medical, because it’s there that Tony finds him, just as Steve is trying to make his escape. He’s got one arm in a sling and bruises over half his face, but it’ll be all healed up by next morning, anyway, which will be his excuse for leaving if anyone bothers to chew him out for it.

(they didn’t use to, the first weeks, too blinded by hero-worship, but now they’re onto him)

“Your suit’s done,” Tony greets him. “What happened to your face?”

“Pavement.” Steve doesn’t know why he stays still for Tony so he can reach up and poke at his bruised cheek, but he does it anyway. “Since Thor left we’re only five Avengers, so it’s easier to get hurt now… maybe an additional member could help, but...”

Tony brushes a finger over the skin just beneath Steve’s eye, feather light, before withdrawing.

“Hmm,” Tony says. “Come pick up your suit.”

“I’m injured,” Steve replies.

“I’ll get us dinner on the way.”

“Hmm,” Steve says. Then he makes some decisions, but not only about the dinner.

****

* * *

****

Steve decides that he wants Tony on the team, or maybe he should say  _ Iron Man _ , since the cat’s out of the bag now. He watches a video of him on the You Tube (wouldn’t  _ Your _ Tube make more sense?), and he flies just like War Machine, but he’s sleeker and glows in the sun, does a showy twirl for what looks like no reason to Steve, and it’s pretty obvious that it’s Tony in there, but he’s graceful and fearless.

Then he watches another clip by mistake because the video starts without him doing anything: Tony Stark in 2007 at a party. Steve sees how everyone gets stuck on the narcissism part (because yeah he’s arrogant even now) but that - that apathy’s not who he is now. Tony’s  _ changed _ , or mellowed out at least, it’s obvious, and Steve doesn’t want to see any more of this old version with smirks and words so cutting he feels it through the screen, so he closes down the tab.

Best not to trust anyone’s opinion of Tony except for Rhodey’s.

He brings up the whole thing at the next briefing the Avengers have. Bruce says, “Well, if you think so. I’ve read some of his work, it’s not half bad…”

Having seen Tony’s lab, Steve doesn’t doubt that.

“Tony Stark?” Clint says. He sounds distinctly like he’s judging Steve. “Why not. He’s pals with Rhodey, right?”

“Good luck getting him on the team,” Rhodey says flatly. “Good luck, Cap.”

Natasha doesn’t say anything, just cocks her head and looks at him.

Not the most enthusiastic of approval, perhaps, but no one argued, so Steve is going to see it as a ‘yes’. He can tell Thor about the news once he comes back to Earth. 

Having asked his team their opinions, Steve then fights with his computer long enough to write an email to Fury and send it a few times. And after he’s notified Fury, whose reply was just ‘ _ you can try, Rogers _ ’, Steve’s next step is to actually recruit Tony.

He’s feeling less optimistic than he’d like to, but… if Iron Man is as good as War Machine, then it’d be really good to have him on the team. He’s smart. That he’s another flier would be nice too, especially seeing as Thor still hasn’t returned, and Tony is… nice. That’s the wrong word. Steve has heard people call him all sorts of words in the short time he’s been aware of Tony, but to Steve Tony just seems like… a guy. He doesn’t  _ act _ around Steve, he doesn’t treat Steve like Steve’s from the middle ages or like he’s some celebrity, he just treats Steve like he treats mostly everyone else. Sure, he’s flashy and loud, but it’s really not the worst thing. Steve… Steve’s decided on this. He doesn’t have to justify it unless someone asks about it.

And he’s really tired of questions.

Steve - is quite tired, in general, but he’ll carry on anyway, as is his duty.

****

* * *

****

Tony is standing outside Steve’s room at SHIELD talking to Natasha the next time Steve sees him, sharing a devious smile with Nat. When Steve approaches Natasha just says, “See you,” turns and promptly disappears down the corridor, while Tony turns to Steve and throws his hands out.

“Cap!” He says grandly. “How’s your uniform holding up?”

“It’s good,” Steve says. “Better than the SHIELD one.”

“Obviously,” Tony says, but visibly preens anyway.

_ So, you were talking to Nat? _ Steve doesn’t say. He crosses his arms, then uncrosses them and sticks his hands in the pockets of his jacket instead. “Tony,” he begins, making eye contact with Tony, who’s starting to look like he wants to bolt, “Would you like to join the Avengers?”

“I- what.” 

Steve stands very still and looks at him.

Tony’s mouth twitches briefly. “Are you asking me to join?”

“Yes.”

“No thanks.” Tony slips past Steve and starts walking away. “But I’ll see you around.”

****

* * *

****

That first conversation, that first try, seemingly took them nowhere. But Steve is a strategist, and testing the waters is always good to do first even if he’s never subscribed to that particular philosophy before, but Bucky would probably just say that it’s ‘ _ about damn time, Rogers _ ’ and then grin at him because he knew Steve would never stop being a fool-

Thor continues being absent, the team continues being understaffed, and a week later, Steve asks Tony again.

“You’re sincerely asking?” Tony muses, leaning against his car (black, today) since Steve had caught him at the parking lot.

“Why would I be joking about this?” Steve counters. “Of course I’m sincere.”

“You already have War Machine,” Tony says. “Do you actually need-”

“Yes.” 

They stare at each other for a moment.

“Look,” Tony then says. “If you really truly oh-so-desperately need another Iron Man, then I know this girl in Chicago, Ironheart, who’d fit perfectly. She’s a genius, she can do everything Iron Man can, maybe she’d be up for your super special hero club! Do you want her number?” He takes out his phone and Steve tries to think of an objection without making it sound rude, or, well, like an objection.  _ I want you!  _ is not an acceptable argument, it isn’t.

“J,” Tony tells his phone, “What’s Riri’s number? The captain needs it.”

Steve wants to heave a sigh, but doesn’t. Another Avenger would be great no matter who it is, right?

****

* * *

****

Riri didn’t fly all the way over to New York just to have Captain America tell her she’s too  _ young _ to join his team, especially when Tony sent her here straight from her garage, like maybe she was busy,  _ hello  _ (but never too busy for superhero business) and now this is just rude. However, after talking to Cap for five minutes he’s starting to dislike his own decision too, because Riri can argue for herself, and she can see that he’s starting to crack.

“You’re a  _ teenager _ ,” he insists.

“I’m studying at MIT,” Riri says, “I’m not  _ that _ young.” 

(well, she  _ is  _ that young, but she’s smart enough it doesn’t matter)

Riri asks, “Why would you even ask Tony to send me here if you’re just going to argue?”

“I…” Cap sighs. “I think don’t think that you are, legally, allowed to become an Avenger.”

“We’ll sort it out,” Riri says vaguely. Pepper Potts can solve anything.

****

* * *

****

Things have been pretty quiet the last few weeks, both with the Avengers and with the rest of Rhodey’s life, so it’s a surprise to be called in to an Avengers briefing. They haven’t done a single thing as the Avengers in weeks, so Rhodey comes in his armour, prepared to head off on a mission - and runs into another armoured person in SHIELD HQ. For a second he irrationally thinks it’s Tony, which it obviously isn’t, and then he recognises Ironheart’s colours.

Which makes even less sense, until he thinks about it.

“Hello,” he says, only to then immediately ask, “ _ Really _ ?”

“Tony still won’t join,” Riri replies. “But I’m an Avenger now!”

“Doesn’t it take long to fly over here?” Rhodey asks, because him voicing the rest of his concerns would likely not be appreciated.

Riri makes a wiggly hand gesture, because it’s hard to shrug in a full suit of armour. “It’s not like I have to come here that often,” she then says. “You guys have missions like, every other month.”

“Can’t argue there.”

Rhodey and Riri go inside the briefing room to wait, chatting for a bit. There’s exactly one chair at the table that’s reinforced enough for an armoured person to sit in it, which is Rhodey’s chair, and since there’s only one the both of them just stand along the wall looking like a couple of dumb modern art pieces instead. When Steve shows up, exactly on time as usual, he just nods at them and wearily takes a seat.

Clint, however, stops and double-takes. His expression is almost funny enough to make this briefing worth it.

Natasha doesn’t halt, but she stares at Riri for a fraction of a moment.

Bruce takes one look and says, “Wait, who are you? You’re not Tony, right?”

“I’m Riri Williams,” Riri says helpfully.

“She’s the newest addition to the team,” Steve says, and everyone looks at him instead of gawking at Riri. “Please welcome Ironheart to the Avengers.”

“Hey!” Clint cheers, and holds up his hand for a high-five. Riri bumps it carefully.

“Oh, Steve,” Natasha says, shaking her head.

That’s the moment Rhodey realises that he was worrying about entirely the wrong thing: that Steve would despise Tony, when instead it seems as if Steve likes Tony too much. Thinking that Steve would be special, wouldn’t be charmed by Tony like all the other crowds, would skip straight to the disappointment, to feeling annoyed and done with Tony. Not this.

“We should train together with Ironheart,” Steve says, ignoring Natasha’s comment. “Do some sparring, since she’s a new member here. We need to get familiar with each other’s fighting styles, and…”

_ Well, _ Rhodey thinks. And so we have six Avengers once again.

****

* * *

****

It takes Steve a moment to find and unlock his phone, and then another second before he manages to answer the call. “This is Steve Rogers,” he tells the phone blankly, sitting down on his bed.

“Steve!”  _ Tony _ exclaims, and Steve startles. “How’s the team? Ironheart fitting in alright?”

“Yes,” Steve says. “We’re good, she’s good - hasn’t she talked to you?”

“Yeah, but I wanted to hear from you, too.”

_ And I want you on the team, too. _

Does he, actually? Steve bows his head, rubs a hand over his face. 

Is that what Steve wants? Is it?

He never sees Tony enough - but that’s understandable, they only met because of Rhodey, they don’t work together, they barely share any friends, they barely share any interests. But he  _ wants _ to see Tony more. He wants…

Tony says in his ear, “Well, Cap, I really-”

“Why don’t you want to join the Avengers?”

There’s a moment before Tony answers, jovially, “Didn’t I tell you I won’t join until Fury begs me to?”

“That’s it?” Steve asks, almost disappointed.

“Steve,” Tony says, and then he sighs. Steve wishes he could see his face. “I’m not a team player. I’m not… good at teamwork, sharing, whatever. You don’t want me on the Avengers.”

“You’re a genius,” Steve argues. “You’re brilliant, I’ve read about you, you’re-”

“I’m a narcissistic asshole, Steve. Do I need to say anything else?”

“You’re not.”

Tony changes the subject. “You’ve got War Machine and Ironheart already, aren’t two enough?”

It is enough, Rhodey and Riri are enough. But there could still be  _ more, _ Steve still wants… 

It’s been all tangled up inside him, his feelings and this new century, ever since that first article on LGBT rights he had read. Clint had showed him it and Steve had read it, had stared thoughtfully for along time, and  _ no, Clint _ , he was shocked, but not for that reason. 

It was disbelieving relief Steve had felt.

“You’re right,” Steve says, and it barely pains him, because he’s already decided to drop it. “But…” he can feel his pulse pick up, and it will never not be uncomfortable to try and ask anyone this- “Would you like to go out? With me?”

Having this conversation over the phone feels like absolute agony in this moment.

“You mean…” Tony begins, haltingly. He asks, “‘Out’?”

“May I take you on a date?”

Tony’s answering  _ sure _ shouldn’t hit Steve with both so much relief and so much exhilaration, but it does.

 

* * *

****

Tony’s fingers linger on the arc reactor as he stands in front of the mirror, shirt halfway on, feeling the cool edges and the warmer glass casing, his face half shadow and half light. Steve won’t mind. He won’t. Tony can’t convince himself that he doesn’t care about Steve’s opinions, but up close Steve has been polite, awkward, harmless, so it’s not a huge leap to think that Steve won’t care about the chunk of metal embedded in Tony’s chest.

Hey, he’s a 40s’ gentleman, they probably won’t even get that far tonight.

Like Tony has any idea where Steve is planning to take this.

He finishes dressing, taking the jacket but skipping the tie, goes down to the garage and makes JARVIS pick the car because he can’t decide. He almost calls Pepper, because she’s always been wiser than Tony, and Tony and Steve are bound to have very different views on common sense - or maybe not, who knows, it was  _ Steve _ who asked Tony out. (Tony never saw it coming, but Steve did say ‘ _ date _ ’; Steve does know what a ‘ _ date _ ’ is, he does) And Tony  _ would _ tease him about all the history books never mentioning this, but the man’s taking him out and really, Steve has to hate the press enough by now.

Tony drives to SHIELD HQ to pick up Steve, which is a terribly depressing place to live but Tony can fix that problem later, and asks him, “You can drive, right?”

“I’ve done it before,” Steve says, which is a vague answer that’d perhaps alarm Tony more if he wasn’t so busy appreciating Steve in civilian clothes.

“Good, great, fantastic - you, in the driver’s seat.”

Tony gets out to swap seats, and slowly Steve takes the driver's seat. He puts his hands on the wheel and Tony makes an encouraging gesture. “Alright,” he says, and starts the car.

Steve drives out into the city, and Tony is then content to just sit there quietly and watch Steve, who fortunately handles the car just fine. It’s evening in the city and Tony watches the lights from the streetlights and storefronts play over his face - when they stop at their first traffic light Steve catches his eye and says, “What?”

“Just looking,” Tony says and feels himself smile. Steve is handsome, he’s cutely polite and sweet and young, and here he’s taking  _ Tony _ out, this is already so terribly domestic compared to Tony’s other meet-”you’re hot”-sex encounters, Tony can’t understand it. Getting over the fact that Captain America is into men was already pretty daunting - Tony is, obviously, blaming Howard for that. But that Tony would somehow end up  _ here _ , with Steve…

Is highly improbable, so much so that Tony catches a terrible and paranoid thought.

He says, with forced cheer, making it a joke, “You’re not trying to seduce me into joining the Avengers, are you?”

“What - no, no,” Steve looks at him for a split-second before then concentrating on the road again. “This is just… I wanted to go out with you. Because you’re-”

“Okay, good,” Tony says, feeling stupid about being relieved, “Because I’m not going to join the Avengers, Cap.”

“I know,” Steve says, softly. Then, “Okay, here we are-” he slows the car down outside some restaurant, and they get out of the car. Steve hangs back and smiles at him, so that they walk side by side up to the door, and Tony bites back a comment but-

It’s okay. Steve’s here, Steve’s actually taking him on a legitimate honest-to-god date, and it’s going to be good. It’s okay. 

Tony takes Steve’s hand, loosely, carefully, in case it’s unwelcome - but Steve grabs back firmly, and together they enter the restaurant.

“You know,” Steve then says as they’re getting a table, “I’m starting to think that maybe it’s good that you’re not on the Avengers, when you think about - y’know, dating… policy within the team, and-”

“Really? You guys have rules about dating within the team?” Tony can’t help but be amused.

“I’m not sure,” Steve admits. “But either way, I won’t have to worry about that, right?”

“Oh, I don’t know,” Tony drawls. “I might just decide to join the Avengers after all…”

“Tony,” Steve says, halfway fond and halfway exasperated, and for a second Tony considers just climbing over the table into his lap and kissing him.

“Maybe,” Tony concedes, smiling. “Maybe sometime in the future.”

 


End file.
